


In This Strange World

by Hadrian_Pendragons



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen Walker is a Noah, Allen is not a Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But he is a little shit and I love him, But this is Allen Walker it can only be so fluffy, F/M, Kitsunegeddon 2020, M/M, Made Up lore eventually, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Nice moments in there too, Non-human Allen Walker, OT3 eventually, Past Child Abuse, Trust Issues, he needs a hug, then not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadrian_Pendragons/pseuds/Hadrian_Pendragons
Summary: Allen Walker wasn't human. This was a fact he had known for as long as he could remember.Humans weren't kind to things deemed strange. That was the lesson he learned.Red had lost his world once, and Allen Walker would not lose it again.
Relationships: Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker, Kanda Yuu/Lenalee Lee, Kanda Yuu/Lenalee Lee/Allen Walker, Lenalee Lee/Allen Walker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45
Collections: Kitsunegeddon 2020





	In This Strange World

**Author's Note:**

> For Kitsunegeddon 2020! What in the world have I done, creating another chapter fic. I don't have any chill. Allen's too fun to write.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Red knew he wasn’t human. ****

He hadn’t found out because he was told—God didn’t find it in his graces to give him a willing adult to learn from, though he was just fine with that, since adults were bastards anyway. They tended to call him mutilated, deformed, cursed, an abomination—but each insult was always something once human. Always something that had once been acceptable, then become something uncanny and horrid. ****

No, Red found neither help nor information from the hateful caretakers at the orphanages. He found no solace in the single cubbyhole space he was allowed in the churches. ****

The only thing he ever learned from those places was that he had no place among humans. ****

He hadn’t discovered through any sort of research or reading either. He’d only learned to read enough that he could keep up with the papers and stay out of trouble. No one wanted to be caught stumbling through town when tensions were high and the law was one street urchin away from kicking you out of town. He didn’t know enough to read the complicated books, but he was just fine with that, too, since all he really needed was to survive. ****

Red discovered he wasn’t human because he woke up one day and  was human. ****

He didn’t remember much from before. There was the idea of warmth, of childish glee and trickery and fire and shifting form. And then he was cold, in the snow, lying on a street with limbs not his own and a tongue that didn’t know how to create the simple syllables of the human tongue and a red, red arm that brought him nothing but hunger and pain and cold nights and loneliness— ****

But, really, Red was okay with that. If he wasn’t human, he could look at the human’s actions and see how they mistreated others for no other reason than that they were different. He could tell how horrible it was, and laugh at how misguided they were. ****

If he had been human, going through all of that alone might have been unbearable. ****

But if it was like this, he was okay with it.

* * *

Red thought he should have claws.  ****

He tripped often, as if he was missing a limb, and many times found himself dropping to all fours to sniff around and observe. Humans found it strange at best, and terrifying at worst. It was considered indecent and wrong for a human to do such things. Red never explained that he had an easier time moving when he was closer to the ground, or that he could smell the scent of animals wandering the forests and hear the words spoken by his caretakers behind closed doors. Keeping that to himself was safer. ****

Red thought he should have sharper teeth. ****

The food he took and ate tasted painfully like ash. As if it was missing something, an ingredient he didn’t know the name of. He tried to put many different ingredients together to find some sort of flavor. In the end, he preferred the spice of hot peppers. They at least sparked a sense of feeling in his mouth. ****

Red thought he should be warmer. ****

Each winter served to drive home how cold he was. The end of harvest was always depressing—not only because he lost the ability to roam in the fields in the dead of night, nestling himself in between rows of wheat and corn to stare up at the stars and enjoy the warmth, but because he had to spend time with the other orphans and caretakers in close quarters. None wanted anything to do with him, considering his arm and his general mannerisms. “The thing acts like a wild animal,” they said as he growled to himself in angry proof of their words. “He scares the other children and causes problems.” ****

Red wondered why a void existed in the depths of his soul. ****

One dreary winter, he was forced to leave the orphanage.  ****

He did so in the middle of the night, after overhearing the caretakers once more speaking ill of him. More than speaking ill—they spoke of getting rid of him. Selling him off to work for a rich family’s household. The idea of being restrained even further, of being  owned,  forced a sicky churning in his gut.  ****

So, he left. He stole from the kitchen what he thought he could survive with, snatched a few of the extra blankets the other children were privileged to, and wrapped everything up neatly. He tied the makeshift bag around his neck, donned a stolen coat, and set out into the dark streets, lamplights a guide in the blackness of the frozen months. ****

Red decided humans were horrible, black-hearted, and so very cold. He decided he hated them.

* * *

The food did not last. The blankets were not enough. Red ran out of options faster than he could find a solution. ****

He didn’t want to—he never wanted to—but he turned to the humans once more. ****

Or—he allowed the humans to find him, slumped in an alley, and drag him off to a large, mildly warmer circus tent with food and clothing that might just let him survive the winter, in exchange for getting soaked to the bone in icy weather to wash theirs. It was better than the orphanage, at the very least. He wasn’t the only one with a strangeness about them, even if he was treated lesser than them and told to pick up their trash. He was the only one not human, however. That would not change, no matter what dark corners of humanity he searched. ****

Then he met Allen. ****

Allen wasn’t human either, but Red understood him much more than he ever understood anyone else. Allen ran on all fours with him. Allen sniffed at the air for food scraps with him. Allen scratched at the ground with his nails as Red pawed at it with both of his palms. Allen gnashed at the harsher members of the troupe with teeth Red wished he had and a growl much harsher than Red’s throat could create. ****

Allen curled around him, bloody arm and all, in the coldest of winters with fur that kept him warm. ****

Allen became Red’s best friend. His first friend. His only friend. The only person in the world Red could ever trust. ****

And then Allen and Red found Mana. ****

It was a summer afternoon, a rare occasion that red left the mitt that protected the scaly skin of his left arm behind, allowing himself to soak up the sun while the rest of the troupe paid him no mind. He followed Allen along the path around the tent, annoyed at his arms and legs for growing in such a gangly manner and tripping him face-first into the ground, until a man stepped around a corner, face fully painted—a performer. One of the people Red wasn’t allowed to speak to. One of the people Allen had avoided for the simple fact that humans were not to be trusted. ****

The man turned the corner and spotted him, and Red felt a deep fear rush into his veins. He became so very aware of his position. Of the fact he was moving along the ground on all four of his limbs. Of the fact his left arm was in full display. Of how, when he attempted to open his mouth and apologize, he had once more forgotten how to form language on his tongue.  ****

He crouched. He curled up. He hid from the man as best he could, in the hopes he would be ignored.  Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Humans are evil, leave me alone. ****

Allen sniffed at him. Allen whined. Red wondered if he should snap at him. Express the fact Allen should go. Allen should leave. Red would face punishment, but Red was inhuman in disguise, and Allen was a true being, he should go— ****

“Excuse me, but are you alright?” ****

Red didn’t move. Allen stood in front of him, growling, and Red wanted nothing more than to tackle Allen away and keep him safe. ****

“Ah, I apologize,” the man’s voice continued. Red was surprised he remembered the meaning of his words. He hadn’t had a conversation in so long. “I didn’t mean to startle. Is the lad alright, good dog?” ****

Allen stopped growling. ****

Red glanced up. He lifted his head, prepared to struggle if Allen was hurt, but what he found forced his eyes painfully wide. ****

The man’s hand was petting Allen’s fur. ****

Allen was no longer growling, but he was leaning into the touch, tongue lolling happily. When he saw Red, he barked, a sign that all was safe. ****

But how could all be safe with a human standing before them? ****

Red looked to the man’s eyes. ****

“Ah, sorry if I startled you. I am Mana Walker. What’s your name?” ****

Red snarled. ****

The man laughed. ****

Allen barked again. ****

And Red had learned distrust and hate… but for one human, those became lesser emotions, and the quiet, numb chill in his heart began to heal.

* * *

Allen died one day. ****

He died because of negligence. Disgusting human negligence. A wonderful being met his end before he was truly meant to. ****

Red despised humans. ****

Mana placed a hand on his shoulder as he cried. “Sometimes we outlive people we love. We mustn't stop moving forward after they’re gone.” ****

From that day on, Red leaned on Mana. Red learned how to speak the human tongue as much as with the horses in the stables. Red learned more words of their written language as much as how to read the wind and the shifting tells of nature. Red practiced both two-legged and four-legged movement, refusing to pretend he was fully human from the start. ****

If the answer was to move forward, he would not forget his first friend.

* * *

Mana died one day. ****

“Never stop. Keep walking.” ****

The troupe left them alone on the side of a path, Red wrapped in Mana’s coat and Mana in a shallowly dug grave, headed by a crooked wooden cross. ****

Mana died. ****

“Never stop. Keep walking.” ****

And Red wondered, sitting among the blanket of white snow, if the cold was simply his fate. Humanity, inhumanity—Red hated everything. ****

There was no world in this cold. ****

“My, my, what do we have here?” ****

There was no world within those words. ****

“How terrible… your father figure, dead due to sickness. You might have led such wonderful lives together.” ****

There was no world within that grief. ****

“What if I told you… there was a way to bring him back?” ****

There was no world without Mana. ****

“Mana.” ****

The skeleton whirred to life, an empty shell, something pained and angry and burning inside, and Red knew there was no world within that offer. ****

“Why did you bring me back!?” ****

Because you were the only good one. ****

“How  dare you!” ****

Because I missed you. ****

“I curse you!” ****

The cold hurts.

And suddenly, his body righted itself. ****

He felt his left arm lengthening. He felt his nails morph into something sharper than those on dull, rounded human fingers. He felt his ears twitch, sounds sharpening, the whirring machine precise and loud in them. His teeth ached and his mouth felt strange, but he found he could form the familiar pained whine he heard from Allen in his last moments much easier than before. And from underneath his shirt unfurled two familiar tufts that shifted his stance but felt so much more natural than his entire existence could remember. ****

And suddenly, his world collapsed. ****

His claws ripped through and crumpled the machine as the handless arm wiped down across his left eye. ****

His ears caught the moment the only human he ever trusted once more died, by his own hand. ****

His nose smelled blood and ashes. ****

And Red forgot the world, for a while. ****

It was easier than remembering.

* * *

When he awoke, wrapped in his silver tails of warmth, his ears twitched at the sound of a tired man’s voice. ****

“You ungrateful brat…” ****

He curled in. He breathed in a mixture of warmth, candles, soup, and fresh soapy cloth. He realized he was wrapped in that cloth. He realized he only saw that cloth from  one  of his eyes. ****

He lifted a hand to inspect the other. His nails were sharper. They felt right. They brushed the edges of tape and gauze and he wondered why they were there. ****

“... kid?” ****

One tail twitched, the other curled tighter, and both bristled defensively. ****

Where was he? What happened? Who was he? ****

He remembered pain. ****

“... bring him back…” ****

“Why!?” ****

“... curse…”

No. ****

His whine was low, pained, angry, hurt. His nails swiped to the side and ripped the gauze away. His fingers gently pressed over freshly scabbed scars. ****

Mana. ****

Mana had been human. What had he done to Mana? That machine had not been human. Why had he done that? ****

Cold. ****

The warmth drained from the sheets. He trembled. ****

Sorry. ****

A hand rubbed his back. ****

“Goddamnit…” ****

That was his first memory, he decided later. His first memory as Allen Walker.

* * *

The world was no different after he left with Cross Marian. No different at all. It was still full of horrible humans. Still cold. He still hated it with all of his soul. ****

But he learned to walk through it with a finesse and confidence that no other journey could have offered him.  ****

As much as he came to hate Cross Marian, the human blessed by God himself, he learned much over the years. Not from the man’s tutelage, of course… but from his thoroughly horrible humanity.  ****

Allen Walker didn’t trust humans. None of them. Cross Marian was no exception. But on some level, he learned to trust the man’s distrustfulness. Cross Marian never denied his accusations. ****

If such a thing could be called a bond, he would never admit to it.  ****

Not until Cross decided to settle his own debts. Then, maybe, he could take it under consideration. ****

That would never happen. Which, really, was just as well. Allen didn’t want to trust such a man anyway. 

* * *

It was Timcanpy he communicated most easily with.  ****

Timcanpy wasn’t human. Timcanpy was man-made, but existed as an inhuman entity with a will of his own, which made him much easier to speak to than a dense, pig-headed son of a bitch like Cross Marian could ever hope to.  ****

Timcanpy understood his growls and yips and gnashing and replied in kind. Timcanpy chased after him when he dropped to all fours and ran from debt collectors and angry gamblers after he collected his winnings—and it surprised even Cross how quickly and adeptly he learned the arts of misdirection and dishonesty. Not that he truly felt like he was learning them. It felt like flexing old muscles. Remembering a path he hadn’t taken in ages. It felt like reclaiming a piece of himself that he’d long forgotten he’d lost.  ****

Timcanpy played with him, biting and swatting and snatching things out of the air—sometimes the victim of it himself—and nestled into the curl of Allen’s tails when Cross finished working him to the bone.  ****

Timcanpy wasn’t human, so Allen felt he could call him a friend. 

* * *

He was told to grow his hair long enough to cover the pointed, elongated tips of his ears. It annoyed Allen, but he of all people understood the human attitude toward the different, so he learned to tolerate low ponytails and white strands in his eyes. He was told to wear gloves most of the time. He hated how his nails often tore through the fingers. He was told to wear a coat all of the time—even in the dead of summer—so he could tuck his tails into it and pretend the awkward position didn’t make it hard to walk. He hated the way it flattened and matted his fur. He was told to speak carefully, or risk his too-long canines causing someone to look a little closer and discover he wasn’t human. He hated biting his tongue. ****

He hated the way he felt  wrong,  hiding the parts of himself he had longed for since the days at the orphanage. ****

But no one would gamble with him if he scratched their hands. No one would serve him if he smiled too wide. No one would speak to him if he twitched his ears enough they poked out of his hair. ****

No one would accept a two-tailed boy that  looked  almost-human, even though Allen could assure them he wasn’t.  ****

“I hate humans,” he once said aloud to the quiet of their train compartment, Timcanpy bouncing on the flicks of his tails while he laid on his seat and tried to relax inside the enclosed space.  ****

Cross had looked at him from his own seat, staring down with confused but irritated eyes, “What the hell does that mean, kid?” ****

“Humans are horrible,” he said, tracing the imperfections on the ceiling with his eyes. “They hate and fear what they don’t understand. They destroy when things displease them. They take so much and give so little.” ****

He could have gone on, but Cross might have bashed him over the head if he recited his elegy on the flaws of humanity.  ****

As it was, the man was twitching, arms crossed and the grinding of his teeth not escaping Allen’s ears. It was indicative Cross was reaching the end of his patience.  ****

“You definitely act like an animal,” Cross said. “But why do you talk like you’re not a human?” ****

Allen blinked. He furrowed his brows. He looked at Cross’s half-masked face. “What?” ****

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” ****

“I’m not a human.” ****

“What?” ****

Allen gave Timcanpy a particularly hard flick into the air and bared his teeth. “Do I  look  human?” ****

Cross Marian looked confused.  Honestly  confused, without any annoyance mixed in. It was significantly terrifying—Allen hated dealing with an emotionally honest Cross Marian.  ****

It didn’t happen often, but Allen was starting to suspect he had a talent for driving the man’s irritation away through sheer absurdity. ****

“I explained it to you years ago,” Cross said. “Your innocence is parasitic. It makes changes to your body.” ****

“And it does,” Allen lifted his left arm, waving it obnoxiously in the man’s face, claws and all—he took the gloves off every chance of privacy they got. “But the rest of it? That’s what I really am.” ****

Cross replied with a stare flatter than his sense of humor.  ****

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re a human.” ****

“And how would you know?” Allen snapped back. ****

That finally broke through the confusion, and Cross Marian snapped back, “Brat, whatever. Be what you want, just keep the crazy to a minimum in public.” ****

“Like I see you reeling it in, Mr. Elaborate-Coat-and-Silver-Mask. Why do you want to be seen so badly? You feed your ego more than you feed  me. ” ****

Cross dragged him into a headlock. Timcanpy flew around with a toothy grin, enjoying the show. The traitor.  ****

But Cross dropped the subject, and Allen didn’t really care what the man thought about him. It isn’t as if he had to prove himself to a human.

* * *

The first akuma he faced, he faced alone.  ****

The first akuma he faced made his left eye ache and twitch and  shift,  until the agonized voices of the dead and the skeletal figure of those  machines  came to him, chained to the thing that consumed human souls like Timcanpy did his dinner.  ****

Allen forgot about the fleeing civilians. He dropped to hands and feet and launched himself above the creature, his left arm growing longer, stronger, ripping through the bones of the trapped soul and tearing through the bloated machine like paper. ****

Allen hated humans. But he hated akuma more. ****

Cross congratulated him when he explained what happened.  ****

Allen told him he would destroy all of the akuma. ****

Cross asked him why.  ****

“I won’t let them destroy the world.” ****

It was purposefully vague, but Cross’s twitching eye was satisfying to watch, even if he had to somersault away from the man’s foot. His boot left an imprint in the wooden floor. ****

“What the fuck does that  mean,  brat. You don’t give a shit about the world.” ****

He was right. Allen didn’t. Allen didn’t care about the world. Allen hated humans. So why? ****

Allen rolled his eyes, “What, Master Marian can’t figure out his own student?” ****

And oh, that was the perfect button to push. Gratuitous violence was always the best ticket out of answering questions.  ****

Allen told him anyway.  ****

“Without humans, the harvests wouldn’t happen. Without humans, Tim wouldn’t function. Without humans, I wouldn’t have anyone to bankrupt.” Allen flopped flat on his back, bruised, tails curling around his chest, and avoided Cross’s eyes completely by watching Timcanpy fly circles over his head. “I hate humans. But they’re fun to mess with. And they create good things, sometimes.” They do terrible things, too. But not even Allen was immune to the temptation to cheat death, so he couldn’t fault them for that. ****

“Why are you so goddamn weird?” ****

“Oof, Lord’s name in vain. May he have mercy on your poor pitiful soul.” ****

He rolled away from another boot before it could make an imprint in his face.  ****

Humans were horrible.  ****

But no matter how horrible, Allen knew that somehow, he still needed them. ****

He remembered a tall hat and an inhuman smile.  ****

And he wouldn’t allow some thing to destroy his world a second time.

* * *

Years later, Cross finally knocked him out and left for good.  ****

Allen cackled as he added a big fat  score  to his side of their board. The man finally caved and had enough of him. It was the best day of his life, even if the only way he got out of town was by jumping rooftops to avoid the angry debt collectors stationed at every exit.  ****

The Black Order, the man had said. Allen would make it there just fine on his own. Cross Marian was finally out of his hair, and Allen knew what cities not to reenter on his way back—finally, he could make his own decisions. ****

After he earned some quick cash. Humans really cared too much for their monetary system for how easy it was to pick pocket their savings. ****

Something hummed under his skin at the idea of freedom. ****

Timcanpy kept him in line, at least. Allen would surely detour and forget his original destination if he didn’t get a bite to his ears as a reminder. Maybe he could get a hat to protect his ears, instead, and finally get rid of the mess of silver that was his hair. No Master to enforce a dress code. No more gloves. No more jackets.  ****

… is what he would like to say, but his first accidental reveal to an inn owner got him chased out of a village. It was a pain, but at least he had gotten a warm bed and a good meal. They never complained when he inhaled their entire kitchen, so long as he had the cash. Dine and dash could only get him so far with the tabs he accumulated.  ****

Besides, leaving a debt behind always left a murky feeling in his stomach. He blamed Cross for it.

* * *

A cat tried to eat Timcanpy. Allen snatched the golem out of the air by his wings before growling at the feline. It hissed, but went on it’s way. ****

He looked at Tim, “Stop playing with the locals. Next time  I’ll  eat you.” ****

Timcanpy grinned that toothy, irritating grin. He really was made by Cross Marian.  ****

Allen rolled his eyes, but let him go. He was busy, anyway. ****

From town, the steep incline of the mountain didn’t  seem  like too much of an obstacle. But if traveling the world with Cross Marian taught him anything, exorcists always made things incredibly harder than they needed to be.  ****

Would the local humans know anything? Or maybe the birds… Timcanpy may just hate him forever if he tried getting something out of them, though. And eat the birds. Tim really disliked true beings with wings. ****

“Okay, then,” he nodded to himself. “Guess we’ll climb.” ****

His stomach growled. Tim bared his teeth.  ****

“... tomorrow. It’s time for food. Any suggestions?” ****

Tim l anded on his head and pointed a wing to their right. Allen saw a shoe store.  ****

“Sorry, I don’t eat leather.” ****

Tim whacked him with his wing. Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. Lead the way.” ****

Tim always found the best places, even if they were on the other side of town: ones willing to feed Allen Walker. 

* * *

Allen hadn’t met very many exorcists. They were mostly human, though. If they were mostly human, that meant he could safely say he hated exorcists as well, right? He definitely hated Cross Marian, after all. And he  also  hated this mountain, which the exorcists seemed to find fitting for their headquarters, so it wasn’t an enormous leap of logic to say he hated exorcists.  ****

Allen hated exorcists and their stupidly tall, stupidly windy mountains where stupid Timcanpy could fly on ahead and grin down at him with his stupidly large teeth.  ****

“You are  no  help. Whatsoever.” Allen could see the upper ledge. He hoped. Just a little further. “And I  swear,  when I get up there, you’d better fly for your little unnatural  life.” ****

Of course, it was probably the spite that made him reach the top. If Tim hadn’t nipped at his ankles and wrists the first half, he may have just decided it was too much trouble and turned around. By the second half, he decided this mountain would be conquered and he would follow through on that threat to  eat  the golden golem  when  he reached the top.  ****

Along with the little bat-winged cameras watching him. He doubted they were sentient, but what he wouldn’t give for something to fill his stomach right now. ****

Finally, he hauled himself up onto the edge of the plateau. He didn’t stay down for long, and pushed himself to his hands and feet, digging his heels in to go the rest of the way to human bipedal mode—for appearances. As soon as he was introduced, their opinions be damned, he was going to cut his hair and toss his coat. Exorcists dealt with demons on a daily basis—they could handle a little inhumanity. ****

And if not… well, maybe Cross had the right idea, ditching them when he did. It sure made things a hell of a lot simpler than climbing a ninety-degree mountain to headquarters. ****

Headquarters. Right. He was at their front door now. ****

He looked up.  ****

It was impressive, the air of gothic darkness that surrounded the supposed home of God’s chosen. Allen had seen his fair share of grandeur, before Cross inevitably got them chased away, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise to see the actual castle—what  was  a surprise was the fact he sensed something on the front gates.  ****

Something living. On the doors.  In  the doors. Another unnatural being? Their  front doors?  That sure was something.  ****

“Uh,” he stepped forward, forcing the wobble from his legs and lifting his head confidently. “Hello, there. Are you the guardian of this place?” ****

The creases in the door twitched. They vaguely resembled a face.  ****

“You see, I was sent here by Cross Marian. Could you let me in? I need to see Komui Lee.” ****

The door jerked, eyes snapping open with a bellowed, “Scanning now!” It seemed nervous. Allen crossed his arms and waited as patiently as his stomach could allow. Timcanpy had flown off, heeding his warning. Allen really wanted that snack. ****

What should have been a simple introduction, however, took a turn for the worst when the door’s eyes lit red and it began to bellow about  akuma.  ****

Pentacles and akuma. Allen lifted his hand to his forehead, cold settling under his skin. Now he was just in a bad mood.  ****

“ Mugen.” ****

And the exorcists really wanted to make it worse, didn’t they? ****

A sword tried to decapitate him. Allen dodged. He leapt back a significant distance, dropping to three limbs, his left arm’s claws lifted in preparation for activation, should he need it. He didn’t  want  to fight, he wanted to eat.  Couldn’t they just be done with this? ****

“You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” his attacker—long haired, dark-eyed, Allen might call him pretty if his sword wasn’t pointed at Allen’s face—said. “You’ve got some nerve, akuma, showing up at our front door.” ****

“Call me an akuma again,” Allen growled, the cold turning to shards of ice. “I dare you.” ****

“Still trying to keep up appearances?” The guy scoffed. “Go ahead and show your true form. Maybe I’ll kill you quickly.” ****

Allen’s stomach growled. He had enough of this.  ****

He pushed himself to his feet. He took a deep breath.  ****

“TIM! GET DOWN HERE NOW!” ****

Of course, the swordsman took that as cue to attack. Allen dodged again, crouching low, digging his nails into the ground to stop himself from skidding too far back—and then he launched himself forward, directly at the guy’s face.  ****

“Innocence.” ****

It answered his call.  ****

The claws of his left hand elongated. His arm grew three times its normal size. He growled and slammed his weaponized arm down on the guy. Swordsman managed to block him, metal grinding against the plating of Allen’s arm, sparking pain through the limb.  ****

Tim landed on Allen’s head, and Allen smirked.  ****

A flash of light—similar to a camera flash, but a lot stronger, not to mention blinding in the darkness up here—forced the guy away. Allen pursued before he could get his bearings, slamming into the swordsman’s legs, knocking him to the ground, and digging his left hand’s claws into the ground around the guy’s torso and flexing his right hand’s smaller claws against the guy’s neck. Sword point dug a millimeter into Allen’s.  ****

This could buy him a few moments at least. The guy’s glare was annoyed, but definitely not defeated, so Allen talked fast.  ****

“I’m here on recommendation of Cross Marian,” Allen growled. “This is my innocence. I’m a parasitic type. Timcanpy here is Cross Marian’s golem.” Tim flapped his wings around Allen’s ears. “He should have sent a letter. But if it means that much to you, I could just leave.” ****

Something in the guy’s face twitched with Allen’s last statement. He growled, low and dark. It was impressive to Allen’s ears.  ****

“Komui.” ****

“Ah! Um…”  A voice crackled over one of the bat-winged golems. It hummed, and several other voices groaned.  “If you could please give us a moment!” ****

“Kanda, put a pause on the kill order, would ya?” ****

Kanda pulled the sword away. Allen deactivated his arm and pulled away before the guy could shove him off. He dropped to the ground and crossed his legs and tried to breathe the ice away.  Control. Control.  He was fine. He wasn’t gonna slip up around these people. He’d been called worse by humans.  ****

The name akuma, somehow, held a special place in his heart. Being called one was new. He didn’t like it. ****

“Ah! Here it is!”  The voice finally crackled over the golem.  “Komui. I will be sending my apprentice to you soon. He’ll have Timcanpy with him as proof. Cross.” ****

Bastard sent more than a sentence. Allen was impressed. ****

“Okay, Kanda, you can stop now. I need more coffee.” ****

“I need a fucking drink— Kanda, stop trying to kill the kid. We’re letting him in.” ****

Kanda scoffed again and turned away. Allen was a little honored to be shown his back after their fight. ****

But for now, he needed food. Lots of food. Timcanpy was lucky he probably wasn’t tasty.

* * *

Jerry was his favorite human ever. No questions asked. ****

Allen had managed to politely bully his way to the dining hall in the same breath he ignored Kanda Yuu’s death glares and they  never ran out of food.  It was heaven! ****

“Brother wasn’t joking when he said parasitic types eat a lot…” Lenalle Lee smiled. It was slightly amazed, and incredibly amazing. She had led him here without question, after all. She might be his second favorite human.  ****

Allen might have replied, but the dumplings were calling to him.  ****

Kanda Yuu scoffed. Allen wondered why he was still here. Maybe he wanted to fight again. ****

Too bad for him, Allen was done for the day. Unless an Akuma appeared right in front of him, he wasn’t going to bother. ****

Lenalee giggled at Kanda like she knew something he didn’t. Kanda growled and ate his soba. Allen wondered what was going on there.  ****

Then Jerry called from the order window to tell him his second round was ready, and Allen decided it wasn’t important. He was going to be full for the first time in his life if he had to eat the entire order out of house and home.

* * *

“Sorry about earlier!” Komui Lee laughed as if he hadn’t nearly gotten Allen beheaded by a feral swordsman. Lenalee whacked him with her clipboard. “So, you are Cross Marian’s apprentice. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” ****

“You as well,” Allen replied. It was a blatant lie, but his smile would throw them off enough. ****

“There is somewhere I need to show you, before we get you settled in,” Komui said, leading him out of the room. Allen waved to Lenalee. She waved back. ****

“Also.” ****

Allen felt dread. He smiled sweeter.  ****

“Please do avoid hurting my little sister.” ****

“Never would have thought of it.” ****

“Good,” the aura of darkness drained away. Allen wondered what Komui Lee had up his sleeves to make him that terrifying. “Right this way.” ****

Of course, Komui Lee’s sister complex became the least if his concerns when the weird elevator descended and Allen came face to face with the largest non-human entity he had ever had the pleasure to meet.  ****

He leaned over the railing, ignoring Komui’s words. “Hello! I’m Allen Walker! Who are you?” ****

What are you? ****

The being—vaguely female-shaped, but entirely different from a human—laughed at him. She was almost spirit-like, except she held an air of tangibility that spoke of physical power. Allen was in awe. Allen was excited. Allen hadn’t realized how much he wished to find others like him. ****

Not human.  ****

She laughed at his enthusiasm, and Allen felt slightly embarrassed.  ****

“I am Hevlaska. I protect innocence, and have done so for centuries,” she told him, voice echoing about the room. Allen blinked as her body morphed, tendrils of shadowy light reaching down to touch him. He allowed it. It wasn’t as if she were going to hurt him. ****

He wasn’t certain how he knew that.  ****

He closed his eyes, and she began to count. ****

The numbers reached up and up, until they stalled at sixty-three.  ****

“Sixty-three percent… that seems to be the highest synchronization rate you can reach with your innocence.” She said, pulling away. Allen felt a bit disoriented, but steadied himself quickly. ****

“Sixty-three…?” Komui sounded curious.  ****

“Syncronization?” Allen prompted.  ****

Komui nodded, “The rate of ease you can invoke your innocence. You handled that quite well.” ****

“Allen Walker,” Hevlaska began, her tone heavier than before. “You and your innocence will one day bring a change to this world. You will become a  Holder of Bonds  and a great  Enemy of Time .” ****

Bonds.  ****

Time.  ****

Both of those words terrified him.  ****

“That is quite the prophecy!” Komui Lee clapped his hands. “Hevlaska’s prophecies are very accurate, you see. It is impressive, indeed…” Komui Lee looked at him with an intensity that didn’t match the tone of his words. Allen felt as if he were being seen through.  ****

Komui Lee held out a hand. “Well, then, Allen Walker. Welcome to the Black Order. I look forward to working with you.” ****

Allen hesitated. He reached out and returned the grip. He realized his claws had been visible this entire time… but no one had spoken a word. ****

The journey back up was spent in silence, but Allen found it unnerving.  ****

Bonds. Time.  ****

The words roiled in his stomach. He didn’t know why. ****

He flexed his claws.  ****

The Black Order was surprising him. It made him worry. He didn’t trust humans, after all. So how did two hours in the place make him feel so relaxed he hadn’t noticed he had been flashing his claws and teeth to the world? ****

Allen hated humans. Allen hated akuma. Allen hated exorcists—though maybe that last one was simply out of spite, after all.  ****

He took a deep breath and, when the elevator reached its destination, stepped off with his head up.  ****

Never stop. Keep walking.  ****

Whatever this place may throw at him, Allen would take it as it came.

This place was strange. But that was okay. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle—because Allen Walker was stranger. 


End file.
